


At the Speed of the Future

by ltgmars



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltgmars/pseuds/ltgmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nino is top dog at his hanafuda parlor until he meets someone who introduces him to a whole new set of players. Yakuza AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Speed of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://heavenlyjuliet.livejournal.com/profile)[**heavenlyjuliet**](http://heavenlyjuliet.livejournal.com/) during [](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/profile)[**kitto_slutparty**](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/) 2013, originally posted [here](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/17759.html). Thank you to my sponsors, [](http://lysanderpuck.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lysanderpuck.livejournal.com/)**lysanderpuck** , Google, and Wikipedia. You don't need to know anything about hanafuda (Japanese "flower cards") except that they're playing cards, which you know now if you didn't already. There's probably going to be more where this came from, because I'm not even close to being done with this 'verse.

Nino's posse may consist of smelly old men and annoying children, but at least he can say that he has one. As soon as he steps into the room, wrapped up in the comforting scent of stale smoke and body odor, they flock to him like wildlife to a watering hole, eyes wide and mouths vying for the rejuvenation only he can provide. Nino slides a benevolent smile onto his face, holding a steadying hand up to the crowd. "Now, now, one at a time. What can Nino-sama do for you?"

Nino opens his eyes and meets the deadpan glare of the front desk clerk. His arm drops dully to his side, and he sighs resignedly. "You again?"

Yoko makes an exaggerated click against his teeth. "Can you stop saying that every time? It's not my fault your ego can't fit through the door."

"It gets through fine, thanks." Nino digs in his bag for his tattered membership card and holds it up for a split second before throwing it back into the sea of his belongings. It's a simple formality at this point, but he can't start his day without it. "Anyone new today?" Another formality, though he knows he'll get the same answer as always.

"Actually!" Yoko's eyes widen conspiratorially, and Nino grins and leans in. "There's a new guy waiting for a challenger at table 5," Yoko mutters. "Long legs, leather jacket, slicked back hair. Doesn't look like he has much going on up here, but maybe it's all going on down there, if you're chewin' on the candy I'm bendin'."

Nino's not, but he pretends not to be incredibly disturbed, for Yoko's sake. "You think I should go say hello?" Nino says, asking even though he has every intention of following through.

"Yeah. Tell me if his dick is big."

Nino meets Yoko's eyes and shakes his head solemnly before walking away to greet the newcomer.

.

_Koi-Koi is a simple two-player game of hanafuda. The objective is to form captured hands faster than your opponent, weighing the risk of creating smaller combination hands with the potential loss of larger combination hands._

.

His name is Aiba, and he looks like he's never played a game of hanafuda in his life. Nino nods at the seat across from him and takes it without waiting for acknowledgment, picking up the deck of cards between them and shuffling lazily. He watches the way Aiba's eyes follow the deck, the way he nods almost imperceptibly with each cut of the deck.

"I'm the worst player at my parlor," Aiba explains lightly, leaning back into his chair, the plastic squeaking energetically. "The other players give me handicap rules for Koi-Koi and I still lose."

Koi-Koi was the first hanafuda game Nino had learned, back when his mother demanded he keep her company while his father and sister were away in Nagoya. Surely if an average five-year-old kid could master basic Koi-Koi strategy, a grown man could figure it out.

Nino deals their customary eight cards each, and then places eight cards face-up in the field at the center of the table. He picks up his hand and automatically begins to calculate the possible cards and combinations Aiba might have at his disposal. He waits for Aiba to examine his hand -- a brief scan from left to right seems to be all he needs -- before reaching out and capturing the first card.

Typically when a player loses as swiftly and messily as Aiba does, the winner gets to decide what the penalty will be. Nino is in the middle of a long mental list of chores he needs done when Aiba cuts in, remarkably resilient for a man who should be down on the floor, picking up the pieces of his shattered dignity.

"I know what I'll do for you," Aiba says, and Nino's not sure he knows anything, but he lets him continue. "I'll get you into my parlor. You'll have a lot of fun there." Aiba nods, satisfied, and squeaks his seat back to retrieve his cell phone. "You have to meet my friend first, though. Give me your number. I'll set something up for us."

Nino shrugs, intrigue overcoming his inertia, and he pulls his own phone out to trade numbers.

.

It's a cool afternoon, and it smells like the rain that came and went that morning. Aiba's sitting on the bench in a local playground, and next to him is a scowling man who looks like he's there to do anything but have fun. Aiba twists toward Nino like a hypersensitive cat, and Nino nods slightly, keeping his eyes on the mysterous companion.

"This is MatsuJun," Aiba says simply when Nino arrives at their bench, a piss poor introduction of the man wearing a crisp suit and stuffy posture. He has an untouchable aura about him, which Nino finds that he doesn't mind. It saves him the trouble of trying.

"Matsumoto Jun," he says with a curt nod and cautious eyes. Nino guesses the left eyebrow is Matsumoto and the right is Jun.

"Ninomiya Kazunari," Nino responds. "You're the one who gives permission to let people into your parlor?"

Matsumoto gives him a quiet smile, one side of his lips quirked up in a way Nino finds strangely appealing. "I'm not sure what this guy told you, but whatever it is, I didn't come up with it."

Nino considers the man he played Koi-Koi against, who had a hard time deciding between really easy wagers, who came up with his own rules for the game so idiotic that Nino wanted to go along with them. "Somehow I can understand that," Nino replies wryly.

"Hey, are you guys talking about me?"

"We're right next to you."

"That hasn't stopped people before."

Nino grins and looks out into the field in front of them. The grass is still wet, and the families who dare to venture onto it come back almost immediately, shoes slicked with rain. "So what exactly gets me into this parlor of yours? Is there some kind of audition process, because I'm not sure I came prepared with anything."

Aiba shakes his head. "There's no real process. I just wanted you to meet MatsuJun. He's our meat thermometer."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Matsumoto sputters out a laugh. "You need to stop saying that," he says quietly, eyes on his hands folded in his lap.

"How can you put up with this guy?" Nino says with a smirk. "This is only my second time meeting him, and I've already had my fill."

"Don't be mean now," Aiba says, slinging an arm over Nino's shoulders. "And to answer your question, I meant that MatsuJun is a judge of quality. You can't get in unless MatsuJun says you're a good person."

Nino hums in understanding, settling into Aiba's friendly embrace. "Do I pass?"

Matsumoto considers him with straight-forward eyes. "I think you're headed in the right direction."

Nino nods and furrows his eyebrows. "By the way," he says seriously. He feels strangely gratified when Matsumoto and Aiba turn toward him earnestly. He jerks an elbow toward Aiba. "How did this guy ever pass?"

.

Nino's not stupid. As soon as he opens the door to the Ohno Group parlor, he knows exactly where he is. The room reeks of cigarette smoke, and all around him, he can hear the sounds of bills passing hands, snarls in tow. Many of the members are wearing nicely pressed shirts with their sleeves rolled up, top buttons unbuttoned. Some remain in their full suits despite the stuffy air. A handful, including Aiba, whom Nino spots in a far corner of the room, are wearing more casual wear -- comfortable jeans, and leather jackets over a plain t-shirts. Matsumoto is there, too, much less stuffy than he was the other day in the park, and Nino thinks this suits him much better.

Nino makes his way across the room, in the direction of familiar faces, but settles on an empty table halfway there, sliding a chair out and sitting down with an audible plop. He feels a little out of place, but they had warned him about that. Nino's not the usual kind of patron at their parlor, but if he wants to play hanafuda, he'll be able to play hanafuda.

Nino pulls out his personal deck and occupies himself with shuffling his deck, watching his fingers work over the thick cards. He practices some quick card switches, tricks he learned from a self-proclaimed card magician he met once at a bar. The chair across from him skids out, and a figure takes a seat. Nino's attention doesn't leave the cards. "You look better this way. The leather looks good on you."

Matsumoto scoffs. "Never mind that. Oicho-Kabu."

.

_Oicho-Kabu is a hanafuda game played with a kabu deck of 40 cards. The object of the game is to wager on up to three cards to get as close to 9 points as possible. In numbers, Oicho-Kabu means "8-9", and 3 is the lowest number of possible points in the game. "8-9-3" can also be read as "yakuza"._

.

Over the course of the game, Nino finds out more about Matsumoto. He's a nicer guy than his face suggests, which is what makes it so mysterious that he'd be in a place like this, surrounded by tough guys who like to force money out of people.

"Hey, I'm a tough guy," Matsumoto says self-consciously.

Nino hums noncommittally as he makes a bad bet and loses the round, their final scores in a back-and-forth match tallying in Matsumoto's favor.

"So, tough guy," Nino says, not terribly upset about his loss, "what do you need me to do?"

.

Nino ends up going on a call with Matsumoto. He hasn't given up his dream that someday his hanafuda endeavors will lead to him fucking someone or getting fucked by someone, but he's willing to take it one step at a time. He's not averse to levelling up.

In dramas, when loan shark yakuza make house calls, there's usually some pounding on the door and angry yankee words. There'll be signs on the door with unexpectedly elegant calligraphy, mandates to do things like "return the money or die". He doesn't put it past a good portion of the group he saw in the parlor -- particularly the ones with thick Kansai accents -- but when Matsumoto returns from the back room wearing his starched suit, tie knotted up to his nostrils, Nino imagines that this call will be a little different.

Matsumoto really is kind, once you get past the protective covering. Nino hasn't made it all the way through yet, but he sees the kindness there, lurking like a shark just waiting to bite. It's alarming when it happens, because no one sees it coming, but then you're hit by the realization, and your is heart is bleeding all around you because Matsumoto sabotages himself so that he can safely be kind to the people who really care about him.

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Nino asks as they walk along a busy pedestrian walkway, the suffocating suit not quite containing Matsumoto's bombastic swagger.

Matsumoto frowns to himself. "I want people to take responsibility for their actions."

It seems like there's something darker there that shouldn't be touched, so Nino lets it go.

.

Aiba invites Nino to go shopping a few days later.

_u need 2 dress betr_

_You need to type better._

They meet in front of an imposing shopping center in Yokohama, not so early that Nino wants to kill anyone in particular, but early enough that they spot the group of good-looking guys and their camera crew who'd rented the place out before it opened, driving away in a wave of vans to undoubtedly try their clothes on and admire each other's impeccable fashion sense.

"I hope you're paying," Nino grumbles, his eyes barely cracked open. He's changed his mind: he can think of a particular person who needs to die.

"Don't worry, Nino-chan," Aiba chimes, tapping Nino on the nose. Nino nearly mauls him. "You seem like the kind of person who doesn't like spending money."

After brief stops at some nonsense stores, trying on silly hats and gadgets that are assuredly not meant to be accessories, they head into a department store and make a beeline for the men's outerwear section. Before long, they settle on a slimming jacket with zipper pockets, and a checkered scarf to accentuate the ensemble.

"Maybe wear it like this," Aiba says from behind him, checking their reflection in the dressing room mirror. He wraps his arms around Nino's shoulders and loops the ends of the scarf over one another, hand brushing against Nino's jaw as he sets the knot in place.

Nino watches Aiba in the reflection -- the way his eyes shine as they catch Nino's, the way his smile looks genuine and innocent, the way his hands are now snaking their way down Nino's chest -- and he blinks slowly, leaning back into Aiba.

"You know," Aiba says cheerfully, grabbing Nino's waist and spinning him around, "people who can't pay with money are expected to make it up in other ways."

Nino grins, fingers working at the clasp of Aiba's belt. "Why do you think I started playing hanafuda in the first place?"

.

_It's big._

_nino you bastard_

.

The next time Nino goes to the parlor, wearing the jacket and scarf they were obligated to buy after they got them dirty, he's immediately greeted by a new face with attentive eyes and plump lips. He's one of the ones in a crisp suit with his tie done up, but it doesn't look uncomfortable on him.

"Ninomiya, right?"

Nino nods.

"Play me in a match."

"I don't have any money."

The challenger smiles pleasantly, a politician's smile. "That's all right. We'll figure something out." He nods like he's on the campaign trail, and Nino knows right away that this is a match he wants to lose.

Sakurai Sho is a politician after all -- or more accurately, he's a politician's son with a politician's tongue. His tongue is all Nino's interested in as he makes bad bet after bad bet, and he knows Sakurai can tell he's losing on purpose, but thankfully no one seems to mind.

Sakurai leads him to the back room, but not before catching the attention of some eyes in the parlor on their way.

"Who was that guy watching us?" Nino asks as he closes the door behind him. "The one Aiba-kun was talking to."

"Ah, Satoshi-kun?" Sakurai walks across the room toward a file cabinet. He opens the second drawer and sifts through its contents. "You're observant, aren't you? Most people don't think he's paying attention."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, right." Sakurai looks back up at Nino. "Keep your jacket on." Nino wiggles his arms back into his sleeves, and he keeps his eyes on Sakurai as he returns with a bottle of lube and a cock ring. "You know how we're called Ohno Group? He's Ohno. Now drop your pants and bend over."

.

Ohno Satoshi turns out to be Ohno Group's most closely guarded secret. He spends most of his time at the parlor, drinking beer with group members and lazily keeping tabs on how business is doing. He's not the kind of leader Nino's used to -- not someone who's especially charismatic or outwardly talented -- but there's an inexplicable charm there that makes it easy to exist within the group.

It's a much more organized group than Nino originally understands it. They all have their jobs within the group, from lending to collecting to publicity to negotations, and the Ohno's closest confidants act as an unofficial cabinet: Aiba is the VIP recruiter, Matsumoto runs quality assurance, and Sakurai is the accountant and Ohno's right-hand man.

Ohno is untouchable only in that his security system is impenetrable; his cabinet is fiercely protective of him. If Nino ever had any doubts about what they were doing there, he certainly didn't have them now.

.

_The hanafuda deck consists of 48 cards, four for each month of the year. Each month has cards of varying value, typically including two one-point dregs and two special cards of higher value. The highest value card in November is the special "Rain" card, depicting a calligrapher by the name of Ono no Michigaze, famous for watching a frog try again and again to eat an insect before finally succeeding. Ono no Michigaze's tale is one about perseverance._

.

It takes a few more months of losing to every member of the group before Nino can play Ohno in a hanafuda match. Very few people are allowed to -- the only ones who ever do are his cabinet members -- but no one seems bitter about it. Maybe they recognize that there's something special about Nino, some reason Aiba and Matsumoto let him in so easily. Nino doesn't fully understand it himself, but he's not about to about to say no to playing a game that he loves and making up for his lack of money with punishments that he also enjoys.

Ohno deals cards for a standard game of Koi-Koi -- eight and eight, eight in the middle. Nino watches his hands as they work, long, delicate fingers with sinewy muscles just beneath the skin. He keeps his nails on the long side because, as Matsumoto had explained one day, people tell him they look nice that way. Nino considers his own hands, small and stubby, and he's suddenly glad that there are all different kinds of hands in the world. There must be all sorts of pretty ones to make up for ugly ones like his.

Nino plays with the cards in his hand, weaving them around each other between his fingers.

"I like your hands," Ohno says casually, smiling as he turns a card over from the stock and adds it to the field. "They're cute. They look like they're good at a lot of things."

Nino tries to contain a swell in his chest. "Maybe you'll find out soon."

Ohno chuckles.

Nino loses some rounds later, as quickly as he's able to. "Well, I lost," he says, not sad at all. The communal drawer in the back room is waiting for them. "I don't have any money, so I'll do whatever you want me to." Nino's lips curl up, and he does his best to muster a suggestive twinkle in his eye.

Ohno watches him and, after a moment, laughs. "Actually, can you teach us how to play hanafuda? We know enough to get by, but it must take a lot of skill to be able to lose a game of chance on purpose."

Nino blinks and laughs despite himself. "You guys need all the help you can get."  



End file.
